Revelations
by Inspired-Creativity
Summary: What would happen if your biggest secret was leaked? If those who cared the most about you found another side of you? If, per say, they found out you were a superhero? A small collection of drabbles in which different people find out Ladybug and Chat Noir's identities and how they react. Rated T for minor swearing. DISCLAIMER: I don't own Miraculous Ladybug; Thomas Astruc does.
**Alya: Maybe I'm Hypocritical**

Alya often wondered if she was a bad person. Her best friend and her boyfriend would often try to assuage her fears whenever she felt vulnerable and exposed. Her best friend would often tell her in these times how there were no bad people in world. It was simply that good people too often made bad choices. She desperately wanted to believe Marinette's melodic voice, words dripping like honey. She could cover herself in them, and no one would ever be the wiser.

However, she knew the truth. Call her hypocritical, she knew she was, but she felt almost guilty lying to everyone about it. Sure, she had no problem lying to people about where she had been or why her homework was often missing or incomplete. After all, she had a famous blog she had to keep up and running. And yet, lying about this particular thing made her sick to her stomach. Maybe it was the fact that it was about her best friend and her boyfriend's best friend. Maybe it was the fact that it was about her idols. Maybe it was both.

Or maybe it was because she felt betrayed, lied to, and angered beyond belief...but also relieved. She had always wondered why the two ran off at the same time, neither of them suspicious of the other. She had often noticed how their timing was uncanny, most of the time, and how they appeared so quickly. And how, if one of their personalities, as she referred to them, was missing, the other was present. There were always excuses, some even more bewildering than hers, but no one ever questioned them. It was probably due to their grades. After learning about it, she often wondered how they kept up their grades with everything on their plates. Especially since she barely managed to maintain her B (with the occasional C) average.

She could ask, subtly, but they'd only deflect her questions. Surely, they had all noticed her slight change in behavior, but no comment had been made yet. It had been two weeks since she had obtained this information. And she had no idea what to do with it.

She couldn't very well _tell_ anyone. Even she knew that was off limits. Yet, she so desperately wanted to. But she didn't want to hurt them, or make them hate her. Her sister often told her how she would play with her friends' emotions, and none of them had ever caught on. In fact, her sister still did it even though she knew she was going to be caught. When asked about it, she simply said that the feeling was exhilarating. Did this mean her sister made bad choices? Or was she a bad person?

Alya didn't want to find out, but as if watching a drama, she hung on to her sister's every word. Walking down the street, phone pressed against her ear, she tuned out the world around her. Listening to her sister speak was captivating, but in a different way. Marinette's voice was melodic and sweet, she enjoyed listening to her speak, to her laugh. However, her sister's voice was harsher, and louder. It was like soda, bubbly and full of life and addicting to listen to. However, addictions can lead to danger.

But then again, she always had gravitated towards danger.

Stepping into her room, the window was slightly open, letting in a warm breeze. Sighing, she set her bag down and flopped onto her bed, ready to cry. She didn't _want_ to, but she also didn't _want_ to be the person that she was. Yet, there she was.

Her computer was still opened to that black-and-red web page. The one she had created, long before she knew of their secret. Her mouse hovered over the new post button, desperate to tell someone, _anyone_ what she knew. But she couldn't. No matter how much she thought that was what she wanted, she knew the truth. It was hidden deep inside her, wrapped in layers of insecurities, the root of her evils.

All she sought was validation, and for some reason, that only came to her through praise from her writing. Her informational, hard-hitting, professional, entertaining, truthful, beautiful writing. She wanted others to tell her she was worth something, to tell her she was exceptionally talented, and had a knack for journalism. She valued other people's opinions a bit _too_ much, but she paid no mind to it. Or, tried not to.

Eyes closed, her mind wandered over to her best friend, Marinette, the jovial girl she loved to be around, who held the biggest secret in her hands that she could ever imagine. Tears pricked at her eyes. How could she have been so blind? Her naivete got the best of her, and she refused to listen to anyone else. Now that she knew the truth, well, she was less than ecstatic. Her life's work (well, practically) was gone because of that one moment in time she wished she could erase.

When she saw it, she stopped breathing, just for a second. She couldn't believe it. The person whom she wanted to tell the most was _standing right in front of her_. She felt as if she couldn't think, as if her world were crashing down on her, as if everything she had ever known...was a lie.

Silently, a small cascade of tears flowed freely down her face, as she allowed herself to be vulnerable, even if it was only momentarily. Grateful for the fact that she was home alone, for once, Alya curled herself up into a ball and cried for a while.

Cried because she felt betrayed, stupid, naive, untrustworthy, and insecure. But mostly, worried. She'd be lying if she said she didn't cry for Marinette. And Adrien as well. They both carried the same burden and didn't complain. At least, not to their friends. Of course, it wasn't like they could.

She was worried because they constantly put themselves in danger. So did she, but they had strengths she didn't have. Replaying each memory in her mind, she cursed herself for being so reckless and intrusive. She probably made them both wary of her, many times. And how many times had they gone out of their way to save her? More than once, that's for sure.

Hot tears of regret streamed down her face, a cascade of unspoken emotions flowing freely under the covers of the Parisian sunset and the glass walls she had spent years building. Once she was able to stop herself from giving too much away, even if it was only to the dark room where she laid vulnerable and exposed, she sighed a ragged breath and felt the weight of the world on her shoulders.

 _Is this what they feel like?_ Alya wondered, clutching herself protectively, emotions still swirling through her mind like the glow of neon lights on the fourteenth of July. But of course, nowhere near as happy. That moment had now imprinted itself in her mind, burning bright. No matter how many blankets of darkness she wrapped herself in, it always found her. Whispers of her insecurities, long since silenced, now berated her with memories she had worked hard to forget. A new wave of raw emotions flooded through her, but she refused to cry. She refused to stay vulnerable.

Stretching herself out slowly over the bed, she grabbed her phone, the small ladybug charm still dangling on it. A ragged breath escaped from her chapped lips, remnants of her salty tears still lingering on them. Marinette, much to Alya's relief, answered quickly.

"We need to talk." The words flowed out of her mouth before she could stop them, desperate and pained. Silence on the other end.

"Okay, what about?" The girl on the other line asked. Shaking off her fears, she went for it, plunging into danger headfirst like she always does.

"About you. And this _secret_ you've been keeping from me." A small, panicked squeak was barely audible, but she knew that her best friend had heard her clearly, and the pain that laced every word.

"I...I couldn't tell you. For your sake, to keep you safe! What if _he_ used you against us? What if you were put in danger because of it?" Her voice started to become a little louder, a little angrier, and a little more steady and defensive.

"Believe it or not, I can defend myself!"

"I know. And believe it or not," It sounded as if Marinette were mocking her, but Alya knew better. Marinette would never do that to her. "I was going to give it up, give it to you. You deserve it more than I do." She could hear the tears forming in her eyes, could feel the pain that gripped her heart. And despite the fact that her best friend had just uttered the words she wanted to hear all along, it stung harder than anything she had felt over the past two weeks. Her legs collapsed without warning and she tumbled to the floor in a heap of emotions and broken expectations. Finally, she spoke.

"No. Listen to me, you were chosen for a reason, and that reason is why you do it so well. I found out by mistake. I was never supposed to be there, but I'm intrusive. I know that and don't care but...it hurts. I know why you kept it from me but it feels like you lied. Or like you didn't trust me. But, what I'm really trying to say is...please forgive me?"

"You...didn't _post_ this, did you?" Marinette's voice was strained.

"No! Of course not. I wanted to, so badly, but I couldn't. But, I know about both of you, and I just...I feel jealous, betrayed and...worried. Let me know if I can help you but what I mean is...please forgive me? For the way I acted when I was still in the dark. For making you worry for my life. For making you go out of your way for me. For making you even more secretive around me. Could you ever forgive me?" It was a good thing that she was already on her floor, as Alya felt her strength being drained from her body with each word she spoke.

"Of course." Relief flooded Alya's veins, warm and comforting, but not strong enough to alleviate her pain.

"Thank you," She almost whispered, eyeing the web page. With a silent goodbye, she hung up and let her fingers fly. Her followers would be confused, but she refused to be the person she had been before. She was now dedicated to protecting them, not exposing them. It would take some practice, but if her best friend believed in her, she would too.

The next day, at school, she could barely look at either of them, Marinette or Adrien, in their eyes. Alya was still reeling from everything that had happened. They looked so carefree, so she was relieved when the lunch bell rang, letting her escape the cramped classroom. Sighing, she ran. Ran without a direction, ran without a purpose, ran without looking back.

It was only when she stopped that she noticed him. His frail body looked weak, too weak to be moving under all those bags. Rushing over to help him, he thanked her. She smiled but without emotion, and she prayed he didn't notice. Once at his house, she dropped off the bags and turned to ask if he needed any more help.

"No thank you. Besides, don't you have to go back to school?" He asked, pointing to her backpack with his wooden cane. She smiled a bittersweet smile, tugging on her backpack lightly.

"I don't think I'll be going back right now. I need some time to figure out how to keep only the biggest secret ever." She muttered that last part, unsure if the old man had heard her. If he did, he showed no indication of it.

"Very well. Thank you for your help." She nodded and left, the white door closing behind her. Her legs felt like lead as she walked back to the school, before turning around and heading home instead. The building was _right there_...but she couldn't face them right now.

She looked solemnly across the street, and then both ways. The light _pitter-patter_ of drizzle was calming, and she let the heavens rain down on her. Entering her home, she was greeted with a comforting silence. She boiled some water and hopped in the shower, letting the rush of warm water consume her.

Not too long after, she was dry and dressed, hair still damp and wrapped in a towel, green tea hot in her hands. Carrying the tea up to her room, she noticed a small, black box in the shape of an octagon. Red symbols were the only decoration on the box, emblazoned across the top. Carefully, she opened the top, and a blinding orange light filled the room.

Staring back at her were two hazel eyes, bright and mischievous. They reminded her of herself, before realizing _what_ was staring back at her. Scrambling to find the box, there she saw a necklace lying in the middle of the velvet-like black fabric. It was shaped like a fox's tail, long, full, and curvy, but colored gold. It looked more like a teardrop, but she knew what it was for.

"What did I even do to deserve this?" Pain filled her voice as she spoke to the small being in her room. She could feel it rolling its eyes at her, and she became annoyed.

"You like finding out the truth don't you? Think about it." Was the the curt response that was elicited from the being's lips. Alya narrowed her eyes at the small being. It seemed to take pleasure in this.

"I can't accept this," Alya muttered, sipping her green tea, steam fogging up her glasses. The small being smirked, its thin, orange-red tail flicking out behind it. Mirth gleamed in its hazel eyes, reminiscent of Alya's eyes.

"Doesn't matter. You were gifted with it. This is your destiny now." It's voice was light and playful, and it made Alya more irritated.

"I don't _want_ this to be my destiny!" Desperation creeped its way into her voice, and tears pricked the edges of her eyes. The small being looked almost worried now, as it flew over to where the fifteen year-old girl stood. She gripped her mug tightly, her knuckles turning white, her body starting to shake. She had worked so hard to get away from it all, yet it was chasing her. Tears stung at the edges of her eyes, as she set down the mug and sat down on her bed, running a brush through her damp ombre hair, trying to calm down.

The small creature observed the girl curiously, all previous playfulness now gone, if only momentarily. Alya continued to brush her hair and ignore the floating creature that observed her with hazel eyes akin to her own. Finally, it spoke up.

"You're afraid." Alya pressed her lips together and nodded slowly, before turning to the floating creature. Its thin tail drooped like the thin feelers on its head, large eyes filled with incredulity, wondering how she was ever chosen.

"It's okay to be afraid you know." A kinder side of the being was glimpsed, in Alya's eyes, that is, until it zipped around her face. "They were all afraid. Some more than others, but that's okay. I mean, it's not like you can say no anyway so it doesn't matter, you'll get over it."

Dizzy, Alya closed her eyes, desperately hoping that it was all a dream, that she would wake up to find herself oversleeping, in trouble with her mother, _anything_ other than the current situation.

No such luck.

"Fine. I'll try it _once_ okay?" That's it." She opened her eyes to meet thin air, as the creature popped out from behind her. Alya jumped slightly, before rolling her eyes. It grinned at her mischievously, as if hiding a secret. She shook out her drying hair and braided it quietly, her movements the only normalcy she had left. Finally, she tied it off.

"I'm ready." It smirked at her, mirth dancing in its hazel eyes as Alya listened to the few simple rules she had to be acquainted with, even though it was a "one time only" thing. It scoffed at her words, knowing perfectly well what was about to happen.

Alya had always thought she was a bad person, especially after the whole ordeal she had put her friends through. However, after taking up the creature's offer, she had gotten to know a new side of herself she hadn't seen before. One she liked, admired even. Slowly, she came to terms with the fact that this person that others looked up to as well was a part of her. And she realized that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't so bad after all.

Words: 2,915


End file.
